Speak of the Devil

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Speak of the Devil Page 13

by Jena Gregoire


  And nothing happened.

  She tried again and again. Every time the same result.

  “Don’t bother trying.” Catalina’s voice boomed in her head. Dez’s body crumpled as she clutched at her temples, a spike of hot pain exploding in her head. She peered at Catalina through slit eyelids. The woman’s head was cocked to the side, a look of amusement on her face as if she were watching a small child do something silly.

  “Seriously,” Dez said through gritted teeth, “fuck you.”

  “Silence.” Catalina’s hand shot out in Dez’s direction as the single word echoed all around her and rocked Dez’s body. A searing heat blazed in her skull, and no matter how badly it hurt, she couldn’t make herself scream. She couldn’t spit the venomous insults perched on the tip of her tongue. She couldn’t beg for mercy or relief. All she could do was sit there and take it.

  In silence.

  That thought sunk in and Dez knew right away what was happening. She struggled to stand upright, fighting against the pain and the overwhelming urge to obey. Catalina's command to stay silent weighed on Dez, but she fought it with every bit of energy she could conjure in her weakened state. No matter how hard she tried, nothing broke Catalina's hold over her. She tried to scream and couldn't force a single syllable of protest to pass her lips.

  "You're coming with me." Dez gave her head a defiant shake, still unable to speak. "You don’t actually have a choice in the matter, filth. You’re meant to serve a purpose and I'm going to see to it that you it that you do."

  Catalina held up a hand, smirked, and snapped her fingers. The blue light burst all around her, engulfing her, blinding her.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Michael

  Dez has been taken." Michael unlocked the driver side door of his Aston Martin and climbed in. He still wasn't totally sure what had happened in the parking garage. One second, Catalina appeared, and the next second, both she and Dez vanished right in front of him. He had immediately called Charlie, the tip about the desert the only lead he had to Dez's location. He and Harley were going to try to do a locator spell on Dez while he made his way back out to their home by the cliffs. He was about to place a call to secure a plane ticket when he thought it might be a good idea to enlist some help in tracking her down.

  "What do you mean she was taken?" The urgency in Kade's voice betrayed his worry.

  "I'll explain everything to you when I pick you up. I need your help. Any chance you can get away for a few days?"

  "Yeah, absolutely. When do you need me?"

  "Now. I can be there in twenty minutes."

  "I'll be ready."

  "Okay, pack for heat. We're headed for the desert."

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Dez

  Dez awoke to a dry, scraping sound. Her eyelids fluttered open and she tried to focus to no avail. The room swayed and spun around her, and she fought to choke back the acrid bile creeping up her burning throat. She closed her eyes again and attempted to breathe through the nausea. The scraping paused for a moment. There was a shuffling noise, then the scraping resumed. The longer it went on, the harder Dez found it to keep from getting sick. The violent churning in her abdomen finally reached a boiling point and her stomach muscles painfully clenched as she dry heaved.

  "It's not quite time for you yet," said an unfamiliar voice.

  Dez opened her eyes again just in time to see a blurry figure step in front of her with a small stone cup held between delicate hands in front of their body. Someone grabbed the hair at the back of her head and yanked her face back. She felt the rough edge of the cup at her lips as foul tasting liquid poured down her throat. She coughed as she inhaled a bit of it, spraying some of the unwelcome fluid back out.

  "Drink," Catalina's voice boomed in her head.

  Fucking bitch. Dez did as she was commanded, regardless of how bad of an idea she knew it had to be. The room started to spin again before blackness consumed her.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Michael

  Michael couldn't slow his thoughts as he drove through the desert much faster than the speed limit allowed. He and Kade had chartered a private jet to Las Vegas and were now on their way to Charlie's modest little house in Meadview, Arizona.

  "There's one thing I don’t understand," Kade contemplated. "Why wouldn't these bitches just let Dez go on about her business, ganking every demon she crosses paths with?"

  Michael had spent the first hour of their drive explaining everything he knew about the witches and going over the plan for tracking Dez down. He had been so worried about finding Dez, he didn't really want to contemplate why Catalina wanted her so badly. There were pretty good odds that the reason wasn’t anything good.

  "I'm not sure," he answered solemnly. ''I think it has something to do with the weapon they mentioned, but obviously, Catalina doesn't trust Dez's demon bloodline. Otherwise, she’d just give her the weapon. If she hadn't been hiding out, she'd know as well as I do that Dez wants nothing to do with being anything like one of them. If we can figure out what and where the weapon is before they get to it, maybe we can use it as a bargaining chip."

  "Not to sound like a pessimist here," Kade replied cautiously, "but how are we going to find out about this weapon if they've managed to keep it a secret for a few hundred years?"

  Kade’s words echoed Michael’s thoughts.

  "I honestly have no idea. Natalia didn't remember anything about it when we mentioned it to her, and she had spent weeks pouring over the Coven's records. If it was documented, I’m sure she would have seen it.”

  Michael turned the rental car right onto Meadview Boulevard to make the final descent down to Charlie’s home, and a few minutes later, they pulled into the darkened driveway and parked. He climbed out and as he closed the door, he heard the front door open. Charlie stepped out on to the porch, a glass of brown liquor in his hand. He closed the door behind him and walked toward the two vampires, his expression unreadable.

  “Anything?” Michael asked as he climbed the steps. Charlie smiled and something sparked in Michael.

  “Possibly,” he replied. “Harley hasn’t been able to get a lock on Dez, but she can feel something. Something big.”

  “Something? Like what?”

  “I’ll let her explain. Come on inside.”

  Charlie led the way back to the door and the three of them entered. Harley was sitting at the coffee table in the living room, the room lit by the warmth of a sea of flickering white pillar candles. Laid out in front of her on the table was a map. Aside from being surrounded by dried jasmine buds as if it were a shrine, it looked no different than one you’d buy at a roadside gas station.

  "You," she commanded, waiving Michael over, "get your vampy ass over here. I need your connection to Deziree to try to boost this." Michael crossed the small space and took a seat opposite her.

  ''What do you need me to do?"

  "Give me your hands," she replied with little patience.

  He held his hands out and she grasped them, squeezing her eyes shut. She began reciting an incantation in Latin. She was speaking so softly, almost mouthing the words rather than saying them aloud, even he couldn't make out what she was saying. She started rocking slightly in rhythm with the chant. After a few moments, she stopped moving and opened her eyes.

  "Damn it!"

  "What?"

  "I can’t get beyond whatever is blocking me." She dropped his hands and stood, frantically glancing around the room, looking for something.

  "Okay," Charlie intervened, "maybe I should explain."

  "Please do," Michael replied, his eyes pleading with Charlie for answers.

  "From what I understand, the locator spell she's trying to do will normally show her a brightly glowing dot when she opens her eyes and looks at the map."

  "Instead," Harley interrupted, "whoever these chicks are have some serious juice. When I look at the map, there's no dot. The whole fucking map is glowing, corner to corner. Wherever they are, there'
s so much power radiating from them that I can’t lock onto the exact location. They're here. I know that for sure. I thought having your participation might focus the result, but I got the same answer."

  "We'll figure it out," Michael replied. "In the meantime, is there any chance you can wrangle us two donors? We're going to need all the strength we can get for what comes next."

  "And what is that?" Charlie asked.

  "We're going to find her, even if we have to do it by scent."

  "Do you have any idea how big the Grand Canyon is?" Harley asked, but Michael knew she wasn't expecting a response. She was trying to make a point.

  He and Kade had discussed it on the way out, and they were prepared for the task. They decided to comb the canyon from one end to the other, even if it took them a week. They were both determined to find Dez, no matter what it took.

  "We are going to find her, one way or another," he replied simply.

  "Oh!" Harley's outburst made the rest of them jump.

  "What?" Kade asked.

  "Lucas! Or, more importantly, Natalia!"

  "I'm missing the point," Charlie said. "We don’t have Dez here to talk to them."

  "I bet they're here, though. With the kind of power this chick Catalina is pouring out, they're probably our best chance of finding Dez quickly."

  "But how are we supposed to talk to them?" Michael's interest was piqued, but he knew there was no way he could get into the ether without Dez.

  "The old-fashioned way. It may be slow, but I just need them to listen to what I have to say, then do their part." She climbed to her feet and took off down the hallway, a new bounce in her step, leaving the three men staring at each other in confusion. When she returned, she had a familiar box in her arms.

  "Really?" Kade asked. "We’re using Ouija boards now?"

  "Hey," she scolded, "don’t knock it 'til you try it. These things are widely viewed as bullshit, but I assure you, they work." She quickly set the stage and hissed at everyone to be quiet.

  Harley ran the planchette over the word 'hello' and closed her eyes to concentrate. Michael stared at the piece, waiting for some sign of life. Moment after moment passed with no movement, and his patience started to wear thin. Finally, Harley spoke.

  "Lucas," she said, opening her eyes and looking around the room, "are you here?" Her eyes shifted down to the piece. They stared down at the board, tension mounting.

  Nothing.

  She was about to speak again when the piece suddenly jerked. It didn't move far, but it was enough to startle Harley and she squeaked with excitement.

  “Lucas,” she said urgently, “I need you to listen to me carefully. The witches have Dez, and Michael needs your help finding her. She’s here, somewhere in the canyon, and we have a feeling we’re on a clock. So, I need you to tell me something. Can you feel the witches? Their power?” The planchette spun to the YES without hesitation. “Good! We need you to find a way to lead Michael to where that power is originating from. Can you do that?” The piece jerked slightly and stopped moving.

  “Lucas,” Michael said out loud, “if you can do whatever it was you did to ruin half of Harley’s glassware, and somehow signal me, you can be my compass. Point me in the direction I need to go to find her. Please.” There was pleading in his voice, and Michael didn’t care. As far as he was concerned, this was his only hope of finding her before it was too late.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Dez

  Dez returned to consciousness to find that she was able to think a little more clearly. This time, she had enough presence of mind to realize she was in a candle-lit cave, chained to a wall like a prisoner in some medieval dungeon. The warm, dry air told her they were back in the desert. She looked up to her right hand and pulled on the shackle chains with as much effort as she could muster, only to find the anchors had been solidly placed and they weren’t going to budge.

  "I see you're awake." Dez glared at Catalina, hatred coursing through every nerve ending.

  "What did you do to me?" Dez’s throat was hoarse and she would have given anything for a cold glass of water.

  "It's just a little something I whipped up. Can't have you up and disappearing on me, now can I?"

  “You’re going to die.” Dez wasn’t making threats, just stating a cold fact.

  “Oh, is that so?” Catalina replied with a soft chuckle. She shook her head and returned her attention to her task. “The shackles are a precaution as well, just in case you get the bright idea to do something… stupid.”

  Catalina stopped what she was doing, and stood up straight. Suddenly, she spun around to face Dez, cocking her head to the side. She glided over to where Dez was chained and crouched down. Slowly, she raised her hand. With just the tips of her fingers, she lightly touched Dez’s temples.

  Dez just stared at her, waiting for whatever was coming, but nothing happened. Catalina simply stood, turned, and went back to what she was doing. Dez glanced around the room but didn’t see any of the other witches.

  “Where are your girlfriends?”

  Catalina didn’t answer. She just remained silent, doing whatever it was she was doing with her back to Dez.

  With a thunderous boom, the wall to Dez’s right exploded in a rain of stone and dust. Dez coughed as the cloud invaded her lungs. She tried to blink away the debris in her eyes without much luck. A split second later, one word stood out in her mind. Vegas. She frantically looked around her, a spark of hope blazing within her. I knew he wouldn’t leave me here.

  A triumphant smile spread across her face and she returned her attention to Catalina. The witch was holding her hand out in front of her, her power focused on a point still enshrouded in a cloud of dust. As the air started to clear, and the view of the blown out hole in the wall became unhindered, Dez’s heart sunk. There, on the floor, down on his knees, was her knight in shining armor. His arms were out to his sides, strained, as if being pulled in opposite directions by some unseen force. His head was tipped up, his face twisted in pain, but he made no noise.

  Catalina quietly strolled toward him, her hand still held palm out in front of her. Slowly, deliberately, she closed her hand, her fingers balling into a fist.

  And that’s when Dez heard it.

  Vegas started choking, the muscles in his throat straining. The small gasps of air were the only sound in the room.

  “Catalina!” she screamed.

  “What’s the matter?” the witch mocked. “Did you really think this parasite was going to come to your rescue? That you would kill me and ride off into the sunset together? Well, that’s not going to happen.”

  She walked toward Vegas and stepped right up in front of him. So fast she never ever saw where it came from, Dez watched as a long, jagged-edged silver knife seemed to appear out of thin air in Catalina’s hand. In a vicious, lightning-fast move, she slashed the knife across Vegas’s throat, severing everything in its path down to his spinal cord.

  A scream of the most agonizing pain imaginable ripped through the air. The roar of blood pulsing through Dez’s ears was deafening and it took her a moment to realize the screams were coming from her own throat. She struggled against the chains holding her in place, rage fueling the battle. She watched as Vegas slumped to the ground, face down, a dark pool of his blood spreading out beneath him. Tears streamed down Dez’s face as she cried uncontrollably, unable to take her eyes off of his lifeless body, but unable to look away.

  “Incendia,” Catalina spat the word with disdain, and fire burst forth creating Vegas’ funeral pyre.

  Dez gasped for breath as sobs racked her body. She finally closed her eyes and dropped her head, all fight draining from her body. The image of Vegas’ lifeless form lying on the floor, motionless, burned behind her eyelids, and she knew that image would haunt her for as long as she lived, even if it was only for the next ten minutes.

  With that thought, hatred filled her. Blind, unbridled hatred. The tears started to slow as she fantasized about raking that knife a
cross Catalina’s throat and watching the shock in her eyes as her supernaturally long life came to a screeching halt. She opened her eyes to see what the witch was up to now and was dumbfounded by what she saw.

  The room was untouched. No rubble. No crumbled stone littering the floor. She snapped her head around to face the spot where she watched Vegas die only to find nothing. No blood. No Vegas. No blown out wall.

  “Those hallucinations are a bitch, huh?” Catalina stood just a few feet away from Dez, her arms crossed over her chest, that same smug look on her face, a sly smile creeping at the edge of her mouth.

  “A small side effect of the mixture I gave you. It has a nasty habit of causing some pretty terrible hallucinations. Something about bringing out your worst fears and making you believe they’re true. It’s kind of fun to watch.”

  Dez didn’t say a word. She just watched as Catalina slowly stalked back and forth like a predator playing with its prey.

  “Oh, come on,” Catalina said with a slight shrug, “he’s not really dead. I mean, he will be, but he isn’t yet.”

  “You’re going to die.” She said the words again, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt they were true. Dez didn’t know how or when, but she knew she would make sure those words came to fruition, even if it was done with her dying breath.

  “Yes,” the witch responded. “I am, but not by your hand. That’s why you’re chained to a wall with no chance of being rescued before you’ve served your purpose. We’ve made sure of that.”

 

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